


Under the Bridge

by AccursedLover



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Cordyn, FFXV, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 05:29:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12269841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccursedLover/pseuds/AccursedLover





	Under the Bridge

_Rain, rain, go away._ Ardyn stared out of his windshield and watched the heavy rain fall onto the pavement. By some form of divine mercy, he had come across an overhang shortly before the heavens had opened up. He had been sitting there for the past hour and a half, listening to the radio for weather reports.  He had already called the Lieutenant Commander to notify him of the delay,  His car, the Vixen, didn’t have a top; not even the rag one. The ragtop that it used to have had been eaten up by moths. Ardyn, though he had been loath to admit it, had forgotten to replace it multiple times. **  
**

As he watched the rain fall like a hail of bullets, he began to think back to a rather forbidden affair. The more he thought of the man who took him, the more he felt the sensations. The passionate kisses, the caresses, the bruising battle for dominance, and even the aftermath; Ardyn could recall it all in vivid detail. What’s more, he could hear the voice of his new beloved whispering in his ear.

It had been a chilly, October Tuesday, Rain fell in heavy sheets, obscuring the road ahead of him. Ardyn had been cursing his forgetfulness this day. He had pulled over underneath an old, unused bridge that had become overgrown with vines of ivy and honeysuckle. The plant life, like most other forms of life on Eos, loved the rain. Ardyn, however, did not. He loathed this kind of weather; it always prolonged the agony of upcoming political affairs, most of which he loathed. He had been on his way to such an event when the downpour had started. **  
**

_Do you lot really despise me that much?_ Ardyn looked up to the stone surface above him as though he were gazing up into the heavens,   _The least you could do is entertain this poor wretch yours._ There was only the sound of rain to answer him.  He sighed heavily, _Ignore me then.It isn’t like I care._

Two hours had passed before Ardyn got a message from the High Commander. The meeting had finished without him. To the Chancellor, this day was going terribly. First, it had been the torrential rain. Then, he had missed the meeting. If he were in the mood to anger the Six, he would have committed blasphemy by making rude gestures to the heavens. However, he wasn’t about to test their patience. Instead, he opted to read his poetry book. He reached into the glove compartment, and pulled out a white, hard-cover book with red and gold accents.

Thirty more minutes had slipped away before the roar of a motorcycle came up the road. Ardyn looked up from his poems to see the rider pull up alongside the Vixen. In a show of social graces, he waved. The rider returned the gesture before flipping up his visor.  His eyes were a light shade of icy blue,

“You need some help?” He called out over the rain. **  
**

“No, thank you,” Ardyn replied, “I’m just waiting for this to end,” he gestured to the sheet of falling rain, “My automobile doesn’t have a top, you see.” He looked the rider over, “Would you like some help?” He echoed the rider’s previous inquiry, “You look as though you could use a warm hideaway.” The elder already had the heat in his car cranked up in an effort to keep the chill out, “What say you?”  
  
“I couldn’t possibly-”  
  
“Nonsense!” The elder argued, “I won’t take no for an answer, sir. Come on,” he leaned over, and opened the front passenger door, “In you get!”

The rider seemed a tad wary of the eccentric man before him. However, the chill that nipped at his skin forced him to give in, “Alright then.” He sighed and tugged the helmet off of his head. The face of the rider was tanned from sun exposure, and had a small, well-kept beard. His mocha-hued hair was short, and well-groomed, like a man of the military. The sight of him nearly made Ardyn’s jaw drop before recognition took hold. A smirk slowly slipped into place,

“Well well,” He purred, “Cor Leonis! Fancy meeting you here.”

 _Why him?_ “Ardyn,” Cor greeted curtly as he set his helmet down on the seat of his bike.

The two elders had met in Galdin several months ago. Cor had been there for a post-hunt meal, and Ardyn had been there on break.  The Chancellor, to Cor’s frustration, had been rather flirty that day. Though, due to some scourge woes, Ardyn had to make a swift departure.

“Oh dear,” Ardyn purred lowly, “What’s with that sour look? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“No,” The Marshal’s answer was short, sweet, and to the point.

“You wound me, love!” Ardyn dramatically pressed the back of his gloved hand to his forehead, “Who knew that you were such a heart-breaker?”

Cor rolled his eyes before reluctantly climbing into the Chancellor’s car.  He hadn’t been lying; the Vixen was surprisingly warm.  Cor removed his gloves and set them on the dashboard,

“I’m only staying in here for ten minutes,” the Immortal stated firmly.

“Whatever you say, love,” Ardyn responded with a smile, “Though, I doubt the rain will cease by then.”

Cor was a sight to behold.  His damp cloths were form-fitting, highlighting every bulge and curve of his well-toned muscles. The visual was proving to be far too much for the mischievous Chancellor. He had already began to feel a hint of arousal tightening his muscles.

_Gods, let me have him._

Ardyn’s lustful stare had not gone unnoticed by the ever-vigilant Marshal. His cold eyes glared icy daggers at the elder next to him,

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t stare, Ardyn.” Cor’s words had a bit of a bite to them.

“I’m not staring, Cor,” the Chancellor replied smoothly, “I’m admiring.”

Cor’s face took on a look of minor disgust, “You call that admiring? You look like you drank a love potion.”

“Do I? I haven’t noticed,” The wine-haired elder sassed as he leaned closer, “Though, I do believe that you are doing the same thing.”

Cor leaned away, his eyes narrowing, “What do you mean?”

“Staring, ogling, _fantasizing_. You are no better than I, dear Cor.” At first, the Chancellor thought that he had won. However, the Marshal had other ideas.  In a burst of blind frustration, he had kissed Chancellor

Cor and Ardyn had fought for dominance for what felt like mere seconds before the Niffelhiem politician found himself pinned to the back seats. He opened his intoxicating, honey-hued eyes to stare into twin pools of ice. His wrists were pinned over his head by a single, calloused hand, and he could feel the Marshal’s free one begin to deftly strip him of his many layers.  His coat was pulled back, his vest was opened, and his tunic pushed up to allow that hand access to his flesh.

Cor expertly caressed the Chancellor’s stomach, coaxing an involuntary shiver to ripple through his taut muscles. His calloused fingertips grazed over small ridges of flesh before stumbling across larger, more palpable cliffs. He withdrew his hand, and peeled off the heavy clothing. Ardyn, feeling the Marshal’s eyes staring upon his exposed skin, turned his head away. A subtle shade of darkness had been cast over the lively shade of cognac.

What Cor saw, the selfsame ridges and valleys that he had felt moments prior, were scars. Varying in size and severity, the scars painted Ardyn’s skin. Slightly above the belt, they were very minor, most likely caused by a small scuffle, or a wild beast.  However, as the Marshal’s eyes trailed up to the Chancellor’s chest, the scars became more gruesome and widespread.  The worst of them all, was the one in the center of the elder’s chest. It was long and jagged, with other, smaller scars surrounding it. It looked like a deformed star; sharp, and unnerving.

The Marshal allowed his icy gaze to return to Ardyn’s face. Upon seeing the shadows in his eyes, Cor felt his heart crack.  He slowly bent down, and began to leave gentle, loving kisses upon the lethal-looking marks,

“I will not ask what caused you such grievous harm, nor will I inquire about the circumstances.” His lips trailed up from the belt line, and slowly came up to Ardyn’s chest. The warrior’s eyes met the disks of gold.  The Chancellor’s face had changed from it’s saddened, fearful look, and took on one of incredulous confusion.  The Niffelhiem official hadn’t expected such a kind, gentle gesture. As though he were answering the unspoken question, Cor answered,

“I’m not repulsed by them, nor by you. Those scars are proof that you were stronger than whatever brought you harm.”  He bestowed a kiss upon Ardyn’s lips, “You are stronger than you think, Ardyn. These are proof enough.”

The Marshal’s words brought a smile to the Chancellor’s scruffy face. Never, in all his days, had he heard such a kind voice. He had opened his mouth to express his gratitude, when the Marshal began removing his jacket and shirt.  The stony-faced warrior had released his hold upon Ardyn’s wrists, and shrugged off the articles of clothing. He tossed them aside, revealing his own, marred flesh.

His tanned skin was covered in scars. Like Ardyn’s, they varied in size.  The Marshal gently took Ardyn’s right hand, and placed it upon his chest, where a particularly deep mark rested, **  
**

“We are alike in more ways than one, it seems,” Ardyn commented calmly, “Perhaps the Gods wanted us to meet that day.”

“Perhaps they did,” Cor responded as he reached for Ardyn’s belt.  His hands paused at the buckle, “Do you wish to continue?”

“Of course, love,” His mischievous smirk returned, “I wouldn’t want to keep a man like you waiting. That would be rude of me,” The elder chuckled softly.

“If you insist, sweetheart,” Cor spoke with a purr of his own as he unbuckled Ardyn’s belt. After removing the belt, he deftly worked off the Chancellor’s deep green pants. One of his hands cupped the bulge that resided in his briefs and gave it a soft squeeze, resulting in a soft whine from the powerful man beneath him. The Marshal tugged off Ardyn’s black briefs, and tossed them into the growing pile of clothes.

Ardyn, the esteemed Chancellor of Niffelhiem, was lying beneath the lion-hearted Immortal, naked and vulnerable. The elder didn’t usually allow anyone to take him; the feeling of being powerless often made him feel a sense of dread. This time, however, things were different. Cor, a man hardened by combat and loss, was a rather gentle, caring lover. He had bestowed the elder with gentle kisses and soft caresses, and reassured him that his physical flaws were nothing to be ashamed of. His previous lovers, man or woman, had never said or done such things; all they had wanted from him was sex. Once they had received what they had come for, they would leave him in the dead of night.

Cor had unbuckled his own belt, and tossed it to the side. Shortly thereafter, his pants and boxers followed suit. He spat into his palm, and began stroking his shaft, shuddering when a minor wave of pleasure rippled through his body. With his other hand, he placed Ardyn’s legs around his waist.  Then, after licking two fingers, he gently pushed them into the Chancellor’s entrance. **  
**

It was an odd feeling, having someone’s fingers intruding into his body instead of the otherway around. Ardyn tightened his jaw as Cor worked his fingers in and out, and spread them to widen his entrance. The elder thought he was prepared for what was to come; he was wrong.

Cor’s fingers retreated, and he spat into his palm once again, spreading his saliva over his shaft for the second time.  He placed his hands, palms flat, on either side of Ardyn’s head. Before the Chancellor even had a chance to ask what the Marshal was doing, he could feel the tell-tale sensation of the tip pushing at his entrance.  Cor, as gently as he could, pushed his shaft inside.

A soft gasp could be heard as Ardyn’s muscles tightened. The elder gritted his teeth as a slight, pained sound escaped him.

“It’s okay, Ardyn,” Cor crooned sweetly into the Chancellor’s ear, “Can you relax for me?” He had ceased moving his hips as he gently kissed down Ardyn’s jaw and neck, “Relax, sweetheart. I know it hurts.” Cor gently turned Ardyn’s head to look him in the eyes, “I’ll only continue if you want me to,” He reassured the wine-haired elder.

The sound of the Marshal’s voice, and the warm, butterfly kisses that he bestowed upon his skin, slowly soothed the Chancellor. His body relaxed when he released a breath that he had been holding, “Go for it, love.”

The stoic warrior nodded, and resumed the intimate act. His thrusts were slow, and gentle; a soothing cycle that melted Ardyn’s tension. At first however, the elder didn’t feel much pleasure; until Cor had started to go deeper.  As soon as the Marshal had bottomed out, The eccentric elder saw stars, and a soft cry had easily escaped him.

“Good boy,” Cor purred as he slowly began to speed up, being sure to hit that wonderfully sensitive spot each time.  Soon, Ardyn’s soft whimpers and moans had grown into cries of pure ecstasy. Every thrust brought forth a heavenly chorus from the man beneath the Marshal. He continued his thrusting, growing rougher and swifter as the moments passed, and their hips had begun to collide with a resounding slap.

“Cor!” Ardyn screamed his name as he approached the edge of his climax, “Gods, yes!” His cries were loud and desperate as his body prepared, “Cor! C-!” The only name that fell from Ardyn’s lips was cut short when he hit his climax. A final cry, punctuated by an arched back, ended the onslaught. He could feel the warmth of his own seed covering his belly, as well as Cor’s.

The Marshal’s body was draped over Ardyn as they both came down from their highs. For a moment, nothing but their breaths and heartbeats could be heard over the pouring rain. Cor placed a kiss upon Ardyn’s lips,

“Good job,” he praised as he carefully slid out of the Chancellor, coaxing a whine and a shiver from him. He grabbed a napkin from the Vixen’s glove compartment and gently cleaned Ardyn’s stomach.  Afterwards, he redressed himself, and his lover before pulling him into a tight hug,

“You did well, Ardyn,” he continued to praise the elder before pulling away, “In case you need anything,” He grabbed his phone and showed Ardyn the number, “This is my personal number.”

“Thank you,” Ardyn responded hoarsely before hastily entering it into his contacts, “Are you sure it’s alright that I call you though?”

“Positive,” Cor kissed the Chancellor’s forehead. He was about to lay down to rest when his phone began to ring. The Marshal cleared his throat, and answered with a steady response,

“Cor Leonis,” He listened to the voice on the other end of the line. It was deep, with the undeniable Leiden twang, “Oh. Hey, Dave.” **  
**  
_“Howdy, Cor. We’ve got a problem over near the northern Duscae area.”_  

The response made the Marshal sigh,“What is it this time?”

_“All this heavy rain’s attractin’ Garulas left an’ right. Seems like they’re after some food. Ya reckon you could come by an’ help get rid of ‘em?”_

“Sure. I’m heading that way now.” With that, the Marshal hung up, “So much for a nap.” He tucked his phone back into his pocket before opening the passenger door.  He gently took Ardyn’s hand, and exited the car, pulling the elder out with him.Together, they stood amid the grey light of the seemingly-perpetual storm, holding each other’s hands. The Immortal, and the Chancellor, were finding it incredibly difficult to let go.

“Ardyn,” Cor finally spoke, “I want you to do something for me,” He looked into Ardyn’s intoxicating stare, “Could you find some Mythril?” **  
**

A wine-colored brow quirked upwards at the inquiry, “Mythril?” he echoed, “Whatever for?”

“If His Majesty is to reach Altissia, then the boat must be in working order. We’re going to need Mythril for the repairs.”

“Say no more,” Ardyn responded with a slight smirk, “One shaft of Mythril, coming right up.”

Cor chuckled and kissed the Chancellor on the lips once more, “I’m counting on you, sweetheart.”

“And I you, love,” he replied, “After all, we cannot have the new king dead. That would be quite a tragedy, nay?”

Cor finally released Ardyn’s hands, and headed for his motorcycle, “It would be, if it happened.” He mounted his bike, and placed his helmet atop his head, “Farewell, Ardyn.”

“Farewell to you, Cor,” the Chancellor replied, “May the Gods watch over you,” He shut the ajar passenger door, and climbed into the driver’s seat of  his old car when the Marshal ignited his bike’s engine.  The Chancellor shut his door, and watched as the Marshal began driving away. A gloved palm rested on the fogged window for a moment; a final, silent farewell to the elder. Ardyn pressed his palm against his side of the window until Cor had departed.  With him, he had taken a piece of Ardyn’s heart.

**///**

That had transpired months ago. Ardyn, being a man of his word, kept his promise to the Marshal. He had found Mythril in the forgotten depths of the Steyliff Grove, where he had paved a mostly-daemonless path for the party of three to traverse. Over those four days, Cor hadn’t so much as contacted him. The elder had almost believed that the Marshal was no longer interested in him. However, this fear was swiftly laid to rest.  His phone vibrated in his pocket. He carefully fished it out of his pocket, and saw the Marshal’s name; he had sent a text. It read:

_“Sorry I haven’t answered any of your messages. Had to put Gladio through his trial. I hope you’re doing well. Thank you for finding that Mythril. Love you.”_

Ardyn’s heart fluttered at the last two words he had read. _He loves me!_ He chuckled at the thought before formulating a reply, _“You’re very welcome, dear. I do hope you both are unharmed. I hear that Gilgamesh is a feisty little devil.”_  He paused to gaze out at the heavy rain before continuing,

 _“It’s raining cats and dogs here in Duscae. It reminds me of the day we coupled. Do you remember that?”_ He hit send, and receive a response in less than five minutes.

_“Yeah. I do. I could never forget that. Why?”_

Ardyn found himself smirking, as he had done that day, _“I’m under the same stone bridge, love.”_

Cor had sent a short response, _“I can’t right now. How about I bring you lunch instead?”_

 _“I would be very grateful, love. I’ll be waiting for you._ Thus, Ardyn awaited his lover’s long-overdue visit, anticipating their encounter, and a much-needed meal.


End file.
